The Great Indian Bride Hunt: Chat Files


“How are things?”

“Hm… Getting on.”



“I guess things must be hectic at work for you.”

“Yes. I have so much to do.”

“You better get back then.”

What was that now? That was a sample from our initial conversations over phone. I always used to marvel at couples in love both in movies as well as in real life. They would talk and talk and talk. For hours on end. I wondered what they spoke about so much.  I reckoned I would find out once I too got there. But now that I was here, I was still as clueless as I was before. So was she. At least we had found common ground in our mutual cluelessness. Maybe we were making some progress after all.

But you see we humans have the inventiveness to eventually put anything we had at our disposal to good use. What do you do, I pondered, when you gain access to a pair of sympathetic feminine ears. Then suddenly it struck me. Of course. Pour all your woes into them. The marriage was already a done deal, and I had no need to impress her anymore. So, I could whine away to her to my heart’s content. Yes. That was it. 

She bore it all with great equanimity. She even showed the grace to keep adding a sympathetic “Aha!”, “Is that so!”, “What a pity”, “So sad” and so on every now and then to let me know she still hasn’t put the phone on mute and gone back to her work desk. That further emboldened me to up the ante – I started out with existential angst and moved on to doomsday prophesies.

“The big recession is around the corner. This will be bigger than even the great depression. We will have World War 3 and there will be a new world order. So, we should forget all our petty concerns such as jobs and professions and focus on preparing ourselves for the new world order. That is if we are the select few who survive World War 3.”

If she probably thought I was a nut case, she did not say so. But since there was no sign of the marriage being called off as my mother feared, I assumed things were still hunky dory and I moved on to my third phase – crazy humor. This is the side of me I keep reserved for the select few. But once I got started, I could really drive people mad. This was the phase my mother really feared most about. She had wanted me safely married and bundled away to the care of an unsuspecting girl before this side of me began to manifest. But no! It was not to be. I was already beginning to assume my Mad Hatter avatar.

To give an example, on one occasion she had been visiting some scenic place on vacation with her parents. She described the resort where they were staying to me so happily – one of the rare instances where she could get a word in for a change. Immediately I started off on my idea of a dream resort.
“I want to stay in a Bungalow in the middle of a jungle. A real large one with lots of rooms with guns and trophies hanging on the mantelpieces. Really ancient beds filled with dust and very a old caretaker bent with age but with strange bulging out eyes. And maybe a supernatural being or two to spice up things as well.“

She was totally creeped out and apparently divulged the details of the conversation to her parents as well. This probably was the first time she had mentioned about my weird proclivities to them. I later came to know this had bewildered them so much that they had asked her if she may not like to reconsider her choice of bridegroom.

But no! She happened to belong to that old school – you know like those women they made back in the ancient times who once having set their cap at someone, come rain or storm or even the God of death himself astride his mighty buffalo,  would hang in there and weather it out. My mother had been unduly worried.

But I was still not done yet. One of the days I had been to watch this movie "Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi". I am not much of a movie goer. But a college senior working in the company where I worked had been transferred to my office. He happened to be a total foodie and movie buff who had endowed himself with a cool bike but no girlfriend to take around on the same. Consequently he had to make do with whatever he found to take around as pillion rider on his jaunts to restaurants and cinema houses - yours truly. And thus it transpired that I ended up watching newly released Bollywood movies.

Now what does all this have to do with my bride hunt or for the matters its aftermath? Patience! Patience, my friend! Patience.  I am getting there. I was just giving some background information to set the context. So coming back, in the mentioned movie the heroine marries the hero under compulsion to satisfy her father’s last wish. So, she tells her new husband that she would be a dutiful wife but may never fall in love with him. That dialogue somehow struck with me and I thought I would try it out on my fiancee. Not for the same reasons as that heroine of course though like her dad, my mom was the driving force steering me towards the deep cesspits of matrimony. The problem with me was that  I had never really got my head around this whole concept of falling in love. But in the modern times, the term love got bandied around a lot in association with matrimony. So, I needed to clear the air to avoid any misaligned expectations.

If anything, this had to be that proverbial last straw on the camel’s back. However she responded rather stoically. I guess she had gained a certain amount of immunity against my caprices

 “If that is how it is to be, so be it,” 

Incidentally, that was exactly how the hero in the movie had also responded. But that was only on the surface. However behind the heroine's back, he had taken it all to heart and had decided to disguise himself and indulge in all kinds of buffoonery to win her over. I was trying to imagine this calm no-nonsense woman I was going to marry indulging in feminine version of the same to win me over. The whole idea itself seemed so ludicrous, more so the idea of someone wanting to win me over.  But then the character of the hero in the movie was also kind of no nonsense. The film makers had even stuck a mustache on to the actor’s upper lip to belie his usual clownish image and give him an air of seriousness.

Thus things had gone on for months. And surprisingly my impending marriage actually managed to survived all those months of telephonic chatter fraught with perils, despite my mother’s apprehensions. Not for the lack of trying on my part to wreck it though. 

Return of the Great Indian Bride Hunt

I heard they are reviving the Matrix series after all these years. So I thought why not I too revive my Great Bride Hunt Series. Now what the hell is this Bride Hunt thingy and what has that got to do with Matrix? Well, making a choice whether to marry or not to marry is like deciding between the red and blue pill, isn't it? But if I was looking for a bride, I had already made my choice, hadn't I? Not necessarily. And that was what that whole series that kicked off my writer journey was all about - my unsuccessful attempts to find a bride through the traditional Indian arranged marriage system. But then that still does not mean I did not make a choice, does it? It would be more like choosing one of the pills and choking over it. Talking of which I wonder what would have happened if Neo had done that in the Matrix movie. That would be an interesting theme for a new Matrix movie. And a new Great Indian Bride Hunt Post? Or more like Sherlock Holmes returning alive from Reichenbach Falls and resuming his career as sleuth, am I going to return to being a bachelor all over again and once again resume the great India bride hunt all over again. Heavens! No. That one Great Indian Bride Hunt itself was an experience of a life time.  It never ceases to amaze me how I survived through the whole ordeal. No, Ma'am, no. Not for all the riches of this world would I go through that ever again.

I ended that old series thus - "And so my most popular bride hunt series winds down to a tame end, unless I begin to invent more stories. But you know, in Indian arrange marriage system, finding a bride is just the beginning." So I start with that as the beginning and recount how things fanned out over the next few months till the marriage actually got solemnized. 

I guess many would have heard in India, not only do the guy and girl have to agree to marry each other, but their respective families also have to agree as well. Actually a generation earlier, there was one step lesser - the guy and girl did not need to agree. If the families agreed that was more than enough. Then all kinds of newfangled ideas from the West began to seep in and they added this additional step of the guy and girl having to agree as well. Anybody in operational excellence would tell you, increasing the number of steps in a process is a sure shot recipe for disaster. But then Indian family traditions are not designed by Lean Six Sigma Black Belts. They just evolve chaotically as  a reaction to the changes in socioeconomic conditions. But regardless of the origin, this view of Indian marriages is missing a very crucial step - the astrological review. Usually the astrologer's sign off is the first step in such processes. But in my case somehow the sequence of the steps had got jumbled up. So it turned out that the astrologer's desk was placed later on in the process.

One day passed. No communication. Two days. Nothing. Parents told me not to call the girl and check. It would sound too desperate, they said. Now the thing was I wanted an answer either way. Even a no was fine. But the suspense was killing me. I was in half mind to call the girl and tell her I wanted to call off the wedding rather than endure this suspense. But I knew my parents would half kill me if I did something of that sort. Still worse they may decide to start the whole bride hunt process all over again. No. I had to wait. Five days passed. And then six. By then I had decided, the call would never come. Well, anyways I mused there was a positive side to this I had missed. This suspense was just the thing to get me off the hook. Till the girl's side called, my parents could not resume the hunt. And if they did not call for eternity, I was as good as off the hook. And if my parents wanted to call and check, I would fling the dialogue on not sounding desperate back at them. Yes. See- the equivalent of choking on the pill. As I was getting ready to do a victory dance within my mind, the mobile phone rang.

It was she. She who was to become she who must be obeyed as our good friend Rumpole of the Bailey would have said. The astrologer had given the green signal. That is the irony of life. I remembered this story I had read in school about a fellow who tries his utmost to get arrested so that he can spend the winter in the warm comfort of the jailhouse. After numerous failed attempts, he arrives at the churchyard and suddenly epiphany strikes him and he decides to turn a new leaf and take up gainful employment. Right at the moment cops appear from nowhere and arrests him for loitering around with no purpose and drags him away ignoring his protests of innocence. 

Well, so that was two steps cleared. There was still the third step - due diligence.Though it was not called as such. For all external appearances, it seemed it was all a done deal. But I was subtly warned by my parents not to engage my would be bride in conversation till the engagement date was finalized. As part of the engagement date discussions (Yes. That's how dating works in our families - engagement date, marriage date, baby shower date, house warming date and so on), the girl's parent's visited our home with the most astute of their relatives. Then my parents reciprocated. There were broad based discussions on a wide range of topics covering almost everything under the sun except of course the matter of the engagement date itself. The purpose of this exercise I came to know later, was to identify suitable persons for a reference check. The gentleman the girl's parents had identified had apparently given  a really glorious testimonial regarding my character and temperament. Which was not surprising given the fact that he had absolutely no clue who I was. Human psychology 101, you know. No one likes to admit ignorance when their expert opinion is being sought on a topic. And it was not as if they could sue him if after the wedding, I was found to be a character of ill repute or mean temperament.

Eventually they did come around to the matter of the engagement date. A date was finalized and the embargo was lifted. But my parents were still not too sure. 

"Such things are not done in our families. I have shared my opinion. Afterwards it is your choice."

That was my father who generally tended to take a conservative view of things. My mother, who had a more liberal outlook had a different viewpoint.

"With great difficulty, we have found a girl willing to marry you. If you talk too much to her, you may say something stupid and screw it all up yet again."

My mother's view kind of decided things for me. In my heart of hearts I had somehow never really believed that anything would come of the great Indian bride hunt. Now things were suddenly becoming real. In few months from now, I would be a married man - a condition I had never thought I would find myself in. I was suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the enormity of it all. Did I really want to fully embrace the wheel of life? My mother's words seemed to suggest there might still be an escape route somewhere. Was there some ray of hope in her words. I must definitely talk to the girl and find out I decided.

Wondering what a star is

Image result for stars

Twinkle, twinkle, little star, 
How I wonder what you are!

Probably as a child we wondered. Now we no longer wonder. After all, we have studied physics in school. We now know that a star is nothing but a huge nuclear reactor blazing away to glory far far away. So what is left to wonder. Most things in life have such prosaic explanations. There is nothing left to wonder about. That is the materialistic view of reality. 

Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky.

But wait! You cannot shut down wonder so easily. "But why?" you ask. I don't care if it is a nuclear reactor or a twinkling diamond. What I am interested is why does it shine in the sky. 

When this blazing sun is gone,

When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, through the night.

Of course, isn't the answer self evident? The star is there to show us light when it is dark. It is there to show us that there is something to give us light even at the darkest hour. That is all that matters - the idea of light in the hour of darkness. Thus we move from materialism to idealism.

All that is fine. But what does the star's purpose got to do with me. I am a simple man going about my day to day life, toiling away at an office to earn my daily bread and coming home for a peaceful sleep.

Then the traveler in the dark

Thanks you for your tiny spark;
He could not see where to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

On days, I go out in the night, there are stars in the sky to give me light. That is all that matters to me. Fro my experience I know it won't be pitch dark even on a new moon night. There will still be the stars to give me some light. That is all that matters to me. A pragmatist I am.

But how would things be from the star's point of view. Is the star just driven by the thermonuclear reactions or is some unknown force causing it to convey a message to humanity? Does the star have no will of its own? Does it have to strive tirelessly to do someone's bidding?

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye
Till the sun is in the sky.

Am I also like the star? With no free will? After all I am a sentient being and the star is not. If the star were a sentient being it would choose its own destiny. Each star will choose for itself. One star may decide it does not concern itself with the traveler's welfare and choose not to twinkle in the night. Another star may decide it does care about the traveler's welfare. A third star may decide it cares about the traveler but helps him develop self reliance by not guiding him and choose not to twinkle. A fourth star may not care about the traveler but just likes shining and so shines. The stars take on an existential view of things.

The star, while it may have a semblance of freedom may not be fully free. After all the nuclear reaction cannot be shut down at will. So despite its choice it may have to twinkle after all till it finds a way to switch the nuclear reaction on and off at will.

As your bright and tiny spark
Lights the traveler in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.

Or maybe it doesn't matter what I choose and what I do. All it matters is that it is there. Beyond the twinkle, the light and the guide in the night there is something deeper - the essence of the star's being. The core experience of being a star. The phenomenon.

But then why am I breaking my head over a silly rhyme. After all reason triumphs over rhyme. I try to personify a star and derive its motives. But a star is no person. It is just a thing. So it is absurd to think of it as having a motive or a purpose. What makes sense is that the star twinkles. For a star by definition is something that twinkles in the sky. If it did not, it would lead to contradiction and hence it is analytic. Also the fact of the star being up above the sky so high can be proven if he had means to measure how distant is the star. Of course we need definitions of how high is high, what exactly we mean by sky etc. If we do that, we have synthetic reality that can be proven on disproved.  That's the linguistic analysis. 

I guess I am done wondering about stars. If all this makes no sense, it is not my fault - the fault is in the stars.

A Black Sheep Baba

Image result for black sheep"Ba Ba Black sheep, have you any wool?"

"Yes Sir. Yes Sir. Three Bags full."

"One for my master, one for my dame."

"One for the little boy who lives down the lane"

Now this was a good sheep who willingly gave away all it had. But what if this were the proverbial black sheep that sought to deny its wool to us humans.

He would have answered. "No Sir. No Sir. No bags wool."

On being challenged on his claim of lack of wool, he would have attempted an argument from ignorance and asked you to produce evidence of his having wool in his possession?

Or he would do a hypothesis contrary to the fact and claim that if he had been fed better quality grass he would be having wool now?

Or he might let the question go begging with, "No sheep black or white would  deny if but he had the wool."

Or try to exploit the straw man fallacy with an aggressive, "Are you trying to stereotype all black sheep as dishonest?"

If all fails there is a recourse to pity. "Please spare me. I am but a poor little sheep. Why would I keep my wool hidden?"

Or on the contrary if you don't look too strong and the sheep is endowed with nice sharp curved horns, it might brandish them at you and say, "You dare call me a liar? Do you want to feel the sharpness of my horns?"

And then there is this approach of  reification. "My ovine sensibilities do not allow me to indulge in a prolonged discussion on the topic of wool."

And if you try to argue, the sheep is only too fast to call the fallacy.

"Every other Sheep I asked said they had wool. Why only you are refusing."

"There you go my friend. That is Post Hoc fallacy. You are assuming, your asking a sheep causes it to come into possession of wool."

"No. Nothing of that sort. All the sheep most likely had wool already. They only admitted to me when I asked."

"And how many such sheep admitted to be in possession of wool?"

"Around 50 of them. You are the first to deny."

"There you go. That's a classic case of hasty conclusion. How could you have come to an universal conclusion about sheet just based on such a small sample?

By now the man is tired of all these arguments. "Why all this unnecessary talk. I can clearly see the wool on your back. I just need to get the shear to relieve you of it."

"Wait, wait my friend. Can you really trust the evidence of your senses? Maybe your mind is playing tricks with you and you are seeing only what you want to see."

"Well. I can reason it as well. All sheep produce wool. You are a sheep. So it follows you must be having wool. Now do I get to go at you with the shear."

" Not so fast, my friend. Your rationale is built on two assumptions - that I am a sheep and all sheep have wool. Let's take the second one - what makes you conclude that all sheep have wool."

"All sources of authority make the claim."

"What sources of authority?"

"Books written by scholars who have interacted with numerous shepherds and by zoologists as well. And none of these accounts disagree."

"Fine now, lets move on to the other claim. How do you say I am a sheep."

"I know a sheep when I see one."

"You mean an intuition?"

"Yes. But I have corroborated by intuition with logic. You have all characteristics of a sheep - four legs, 2 horns, the right height. Also you responded when I addressed you as Ba Ba black sheep. "

"Now you have me cornered. Ok I admit it - I have wool. But what's the point. There is none for you. You are neither my master nor my dame. Nor are you the little boy who lives down the lane."

"Well - at least I learnt about all the fallacies."

"That was just nine. There are hundreds more. Even if you knew what would you do?"

"I can now go and apply them in win arguments on social media."

"You can never win arguments against sheep."

"But I just won against you. I mean you still didn't give the wool but at least I got you to admit you had wool."

"That is because I am a black sheep. Social media however is full of ideological sheep who will keep bleating what their ideology states. They will beat you with sheer persistence if not through personal attacks."

"Ok. I give up now. What do I do now?"

"Close down all your social media accounts and spend your time on something more productive. Like say getting me some fresh grass. And a tub of clean water while you are about it."

The Quest for Johnny's Truth

Image result for sugar jar
Many years back, there used to be this serial called True adventures of Johnny Quest. It was kind of paradoxical because the story was about a technology that could produce a virtual world. So actually it was more about the virtual adventures rather than true adventures of Johnny Quest. But before rejecting something as true, don't we have to understand what does true mean?

I look to philosophy for answer. I know philosophy is the wrong place to look for answers. Philosophy generally ends up leaving you with more questions. It is religion that gives you the answers. However that's not much fun, is it?  When has religion ever been fun? In fact one may even argue that the whole purpose of religion is to take the fun out of things. More like renounce fun in this world so as to have fun in the next world of whose existence you are not even sure of. Anyways, religion's approach to finding the answer would be like reaching the top of a mountain on a helicopter rather than trekking your way to the top. So philosophy it is going to be - the slow and arduous way. 

Philosophy apparently mentions three ways something can be ascertained as truth - correspondence, coherence and pragmatism. What correspondence says is to check whether what you take as statement of fact about something is actually the nature of that thing. But how do we determine the nature of something? Through the evidence of our senses. So does the virtual Quest World pass this test? I guess it does. Whatever is happening there is supported by the evidence of touch, sound, smell, taste and sight. So the first theory says Quest World is true.

Now moving on to the second one - coherence. What is that about? It says for something to be true, it has to agree with everything else that is held to be true. Now in Quest World, one can be whatever one chooses to be. Jeremiah Surd the antagonist is a handicap on wheel chair. However in the Quest World, he can be an strong athletic man with perfect use of his limbs. So the truth of his existence in the Quest World negates his existence in the real world. So it fails the test of coherence. But what if instead of rejecting the truth of the Quest World, Jeremiah chooses to reject the truth of the so called 'real world'. If two pieces of facts disagree, which to consider true and which false. Ideally the approach would be to match the two pieces of facts against the other facts of life. In this case the life history of Jeremiah which would include the incidents that lead to his being handicapped as well as the laws of the physical world, which may not all hold in the quest world. This would prove the unreality of the Quest World.

Now consider a world like that depicted in the movie Matrix. Say someone has lived all his life within the matrix. All his history would be his experiences in the matrix world. So if he becomes aware of the real world, for him the Matrix world would pass the test of coherence and the real world would fail it. 

Let us leave aside the matrix and consider a less extreme case of two pieces of information that fit with all other facts but only do not fit with each other. What do we do in that case? Which one to keep and which one to discard? Now comes the third test - pragmatism.  Keep the one that is useful and discard the one that isn't. For Jermiah Surd, here the choice is clear. The Quest World is definitely the pragmatic choice as it allows him to experience the world in its fullness as against the real world which leaves him bound to the wheel chair.  That's the three methods.

Well, when I set out to write I was not thinking of this Johnny at all. I was thinking of the other one from childhood, whose father was testing the truth of the statement that he had not eaten sugar. How does that fare by these methods? Correspondence - If Johnny were to open his mouth and his father manages to observe the contents in there, correspondence is established. But he subverts that possibility by responding with 'Ha, Ha, Ha' . Now his refusing to open his mouth and the missing sugar would not be coherent with the fact of his not having consumed the sugar. So he was definitely eating the sugar going by coherence. Now moving to pragmatism, definition of pragmatism would be different for Johnny and his father. Johnny does not want to be punished. So the truth of the statement that he has not eaten sugar is the pragmatic choice. For his father it would depend on his nature. If he wants to avoid the uncomfortable situation of having to punish a child, the truth of the statement is the pragmatic choice. If we wants to reinforce the message that it is wrong to eat sugar, then the pragmatic choice depends on the establishment of the truth by the other methods for punishing Johnny unjustly would not serve the purpose nor would let him go unpunished if he deserved it. On the other hand if Johnny's dad was just a sadist who took pleasure in pelting his kid's backside, pragmatism would suggest that statement of Johnny not having eaten sugar would be false.

For whom the bell tolls

A book of faces